


The Winter Bride

by lexwing



Series: The Bride Trilogy [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Babies, Flashbacks, Gen, Marriage, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1378342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexwing/pseuds/lexwing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still in the Enchanted Forest and now parents of a precocious toddler, Rumple and Belle think their days of danger and heroism are behind them--until they have to rescue a family member from the clutches of a new enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Winter Bride

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: In honor of the return of OUAT and the eminent release of "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" (yay, Sebastian Stan!) I bring you part three of the Bride Trilogy. Rumple tells his teenage daughter the tale of the Winter Bride.  
> As always, I own nothing.

Ch. 1: The Quiet and the Storm

_Once upon a time…_

   Once upon a time there was an old sorcerer.

   He’d lived a very long life, a longer life than he thought he deserved, really.

   He’d been a son, a peasant, a soldier, a husband, and a father. 

   He’d failed at all of it.

   Then he’d become the Dark One, the Imp, the Beast that people told frightening stories about around campfires to try and scare one another. 

   In that form he’d set in motion the most powerful curse the world had ever seen—a curse that continued to produce strange side-effects and ripples in everyone’s lives even now, decades later.

   Then he’d become human again—still magical, still powerful, but human.

   And humans hated to have to get out of a warm, comfy bed on a dark, stormy night.

   He reluctantly opened one eye to find his wife still curled against him under their thick comforter.  She blinked at him sleepily.

   They were both quiet, listening intently in that way only parents of a young child could.

   A moment later came another cry, louder and more intense than the one that had dragged them both out of a deep sleep.

   “She can’t possibly be hungry again,” Belle said softly to Rumple.

   Outside another flash of lightening produced a rumble of thunder that shook the glass windows in their little cottage.

   Helena cried out again, raising her tiny voice to nearly a shriek.

   “I think it’s the storm, dearest.  I’ll get her: you stay in bed where it’s warm.”

   “Thank you,” Belle sighed happily.  “I’ll take the next shift, I promise.”

   Rumple slid out of bed, wincing at the cold stone floor under his bare feet.  He grabbed his robe and quickly flicked a hand in the direction of the fireplace at the other end of the bedroom.  Behind the grate the embers flared up again, sending a welcome wave of heat into the room.

   His knee was a bit stiff from the damp weather, but thanks to the work of the healers he barely limped as he moved over to the curtained alcove that served as his daughter’s nursery.  He pulled back the pretty pink fabric to find Helena standing up in her crib, her eyes red from crying and her tiny face pinched with terror.

   The moment she saw him she held out her chubby little arms to him, begging to be picked up.

   He obliged her, cradling the child against him as she buried her damp face against his shoulder.  Another crash of thunder sounded, and Rumple could feel the tiny body shiver with fear.

   With a sigh he held her close, patting the baby’s back and cooing soft words into her shell-like ear.

   “Did that naughty thunder wake you up, hmmm?  There’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart.  There’s a brave girl.”

   Helena snuffled reluctantly and knotted a fist in her father’s hair.  Her big blue eyes peered up at him and then over his shoulder towards the bed with a hopeful expression.

  “Mamama-ma-ma?”  The child asked hopefully.

   “Oh, no, we’re not going to wake up Mama again,” Rumple cautioned his daughter.  “It’s time to sleep, not time to play.  You’re a year old, Helena—you’re supposed to be letting us sleep through the night now, remember?”

   He made a quick check of her diaper to make sure the little girl was still dry and walked them both over to be closer to the fire.  Sure enough the heat soon made the child drowsy again.

   “There, you see?  Everything’s fine,” he said gently, swaying slightly in the hope Helena would go back to sleep. 

   Rumple smiled slightly to himself.  How many hours had he spent just like this, awkwardly pacing the floors with Baelfire in his arms?

   “You’re making me miss your big brother,” he confessed to Helena as he rocked her.  “I know you haven’t met him yet, because he’s with Emma and your nephew Henry in New York, but you’ll see him soon.  He’s all grown up now, but I know he’ll be crazy about you.  He always wanted a baby sister.”

   “Rumple? Everything all right?”

  He glanced over to see Belle sitting up in bed.

   “Everything’s fine.”

   Belle sighed.  “I can’t seem to get back to sleep.  This storm is driving me mad.”

   It had been raining on and off for more than a week, turning the roads through the forest into a muddy mess and dampening everyone’s spirits.  It wasn’t unusual weather for this late in the year; in fact, they were lucky it wasn’t snowing yet.  But it was still making everyone miserable.

   Everyone except Rumple, that is.

   He had actually enjoyed being cooped up inside with just his wife and daughter for company.  No visitors, no company, just the three of them. 

   But Rumple knew something other than the weather was troubling his dear wife.

   “She’s four days overdue,” Belle said.  “This isn’t like her.  You know it isn’t.”

   “I’m sure Mel has taken shelter somewhere,” he reassured her for what seemed like the tenth time that day.  “She isn’t so foolish as be out in this weather.  Besides, you know as well as I do how long the trip from Scythia to here is,” he consoled.  “This weather would slow anyone down, including your indomitable aunt.”

   The sorcerer tried to lay a sleepy Helena back down in her crib, but the moment he did so the child’s eyes popped open and she squealed in protest.  He straightened up with her still in his arms and resumed pacing until she settled down once again.

   “I can’t help but be worried.  She’s not with Snow and Charming; they would have sent word by raven if she was, storm or no storm.”

   “Melanippe wouldn’t have gone there without coming here first.  But, you know,” Rumple said thoughtfully, “Jefferson’s place is a lot closer to the Great Western Road than we are.”

   Belle smiled.  “I hadn’t thought of that.  That would be a logical place for her to go, considering…”

   “Yes, considering,” the sorcerer said wryly.

   “Now, Rumple, don’t judge.” 

   “I can’t help it.  I know I’m hardly in a position to comment on other people’s romantic entanglements, but still…”

   “Mel’s happier than I’ve ever seen her.  So is Jefferson, and you know as well as I do if anyone deserves a little happiness in his life it’s poor Jefferson.”

   He sighed.  “There’s no future in it, Belle,” he continued.  “Not for either of them.  You know that.”

   “I seem to recall people saying the same thing about us,” Belle teased.

    Rumple tried again to put the baby down, and once again Helena was immediately wide awake again. 

   “Pa-pa?”  The baby asked, smiling up at him with a loving, hopeful expression that turned his insides to mush. 

   “Don’t ‘papa’ me, young lady,” he scolded gently as rocked and bounced her in his arms.  “You should be asleep.”

   “No,” Helena told him sweetly.

   “Well, she’s certainly got _that_ word down, hasn’t she?”  Belle said ruefully.  She pulled back the blankets.  “Let’s tuck her in with us.”

   Rumple raised an eyebrow.  “I thought we agreed we weren’t going to do that anymore.”

   “These are special circumstances.”

   As if siding with Belle the skies let out another ominous rumble.  Helena began to cry again.

   “There, there, sweet pea.”  Belle took her daughter from Rumple’s arms and snuggled her close under the covers.  “You’re all safe and warm with Mama and Papa now.”

   Seeing the toddler’s now-satisfied expression Rumple chuckled as he climbed back into bed on his own side.

   “I think we’ve been had, Belle,” he said softly.

   “Oh, hush,” Belle said with a smile.  “It’ll be daylight in a few hours anyway.  At least this way she’ll get some sleep.  Otherwise she’ll be impossible all day tomorrow.”

   All things considered, Helena was an easy baby.  Or at least as easy as any child who’d recently celebrated her first birthday and was learning to walk could be.  So long as she was fed and dry she was happy to play by the warm hearth.  She bounced her dolls and babbled to them in baby-language.  She listened with wide eyes to the stories her mother read to her, and spent hours contentedly watching her father spin.

   But like any small child when she was tired she could be a terror.  So Rumple decided not to object to Belle’s plan.

   Helena’s parents watched closely as the baby sucked her thumb.  At long last her big blue eyes finally, _finally_ , drifted shut and her breathing became slow and even.  She didn’t so much as twitch at the next distant crack of thunder.

   Belle pressed a kiss to the sleeping child’s forehead and smiled at her husband.  “Sounds like the storm may finally be moving away,” she whispered.

   “Perhaps,” he whispered back.

    “Rumple, if the storm does ease up by morning, will you do something for me?  Will you go over to Jefferson’s and see if Mel’s really there?”

    “Belle…”

   “You were the one who said she might be.  Please, Rumple?”  Belle blinked her own big blue eyes at him, and, as always, he was lost.

   “Fine,” he said under his breath. 

* * *

 

   The next day dawned soggy but clear.  Water dripped from the trees but it looked like the sun was going to eventually break free from the clouds.

   From his doorstep Rumple could once again see out through the thick tree canopy surrounding the clearing where his cottage stood.  He could just make out the black spires of Snow White’s castle a mile or so away. 

   As always he frowned a bit at the sight.  It wasn’t that he necessarily objected to having Snow and Charming as neighbors: they’d been good friends to Belle, and they were Henry’s other set of grandparents, after all.  But he still wasn’t used to having people so close by.  Even before he’s taken on the curse and become the Dark One he’d liked his privacy, and that tendency in his character has grown stronger over the years.

   It could have been worse, of course.  After the war with the Dark Fairy from the West had finally ended Snow and Charming had invited Rumple and Belle to live inside the castle with them.  It was an enormous place, after all, and they could have has their own suite of rooms like Ruby and Granny and Archie did.

   Rumple would have rather fallen on Charming’s sword than do that, and he’d very nearly told Snow and Charming that to their faces.  Fortunately Belle had beaten him to it and turned them down much more politely, on the grounds that she and Rumple were newlyweds and wanted a place of their own.

    Snow had then pointed them in the direction of a run-down little cottage in a clearing nearby.  Belle had been enchanted with the place immediately, and since Rumple couldn’t deny his Beauty anything they’d been here ever since. 

   It wasn’t a grand place, nothing like the Dark Castle, but between Rumple’s magic and some help from the dwarves he and Belle had made it into a home.

   He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head and slogged through the mud to the barn.  It was too late in the year for the chickens to be laying any eggs, but they clucked in greeting as he stepped inside anyway.

   Aggie looked up from his bag of oats and nickered at him.

   “Yes, hello to you, too, you old war horse,” Rumple told him.  “You should be thankful this barn is dwarf-built, or you wouldn’t have stayed dry this last week.”

   The horse rolled one eye at Rumple.  The large white gelding had been retired after his last campaign with the Amazons.  Belle and the horse were already great friends by then, and so Melanippe had allowed Belle to keep him.

   Rumple wasn’t under any illusion that the horse did more than tolerate him for Belle’s sake.  But the animal did come in handy from time to time.  As a sorcerer he could have of course whisked himself anywhere he wanted to go, and occasionally he still did.  But traveling by magic tended to upset Belle’s stomach, and she categorically refused to let Helena travel that way until she was much older.

   Besides, Rumplestiltskin worked hard to keep a low profile these days.  The Dark One had made many enemies, and in spite of his reformation Rumple couldn’t be certain there weren’t still lots of people out there who wanted revenge against him.  Worse, he couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t take that revenge out on the former Dark One’s wife and child. 

   Rumple still had magic: he knew he could defend himself and those he loved if he had to.  But just in case he conducted himself like an ordinary man whenever he could.  That meant raising his family’s own food and buying whatever else they needed in town, not conjuring it.  That meant no deals, and no striking of magical bargains.  That meant serving as an adviser to Prince Charming and Princess Snow, and showing up at every ridiculous ball they held with his wife on his arm.

   And, this morning, that meant a cold, damp ride over to Jefferson’s place.

  

* * *

 

     The Hatter and his daughter has settled near the crossroads, on the outskirts of the village where they had lived during the War.  Most of the families had moved out of the area after that, but Rumple wasn’t surprised to see that someone was building what looked like an inn nearby.  With the return of peace commerce was picking up, after all, and trade had long been the life’s blood of the Forest.

   Well, trade and magic.

   Like Rumple, Jefferson Hatter liked his privacy.  There was no road to his place, just a light track across the empty fields and through the woods.  Once had to be actually looking for Jefferson to be able to find him.

   It hadn’t been more than an hour’s ride from his own cottage.  Fortunately Aggie was too well training to protest at the gummy mud under his hooves.  But Rumple was still more than happy to arrive at the little house and finally be able to dismount and shake the dampness from his cloak.

   Hatter’s teenage daughter Grace was in the tiny yard, wrestling with a basket of wet laundry and a clothesline.

   “Good morning, Grace,” he said by way of greeting.  “Anything I can do to help?”

   She blew out an exasperated puff of air that stirred her long blond away from her face.  “Hello, Rumplestiltskin.  No, not unless you have a clothes dryer on you somewhere.”

   He chuckled.  Grace had lived in the World Without Magic, and she was used to the convenience of major appliances.  For a lot of the younger folk like Grace the return to the Forest had not been entirely welcome.

   “Here.”  Rumple waved his hands, and the clothes jumped from the basket onto the line, the clothespins neatly holding each item in place.  With another wave a warm breeze blew through them, jump-starting the drying process.  

   She smiled brightly.  “Thank you!  Boy, I miss magic!  Running a household sure was a lot easier when I was staying with you and Belle.”

   “And Belle and I couldn’t have managed without you,” Rumple said truthfully.  Grace had come to stay with them during the last few weeks of Belle’s pregnancy, after Belle had admitted to feeling too uncomfortable and ungainly to do much around the house.  Rumple had thought his wife even more beautiful than ever, of course, but had insisted she do nothing but rest until the baby arrived. 

   Grace had helped Rumple care for the animals and with the cooking and cleaning.  She’d refused any payment, asking for only unlimited access to Belle’s library and for her own space in the cottage’s loft bedroom in return.  She’d stayed on for a week after Helena’s birth, helping the little family get established in a routine. 

   Rumple still found it hard to believe that the Belle’s aunt was in a relationship with Grace’s father, the former Mad Hatter.  He’d known some time ago that Mel and the girl had grown to be close friends.  Grace had no mother, and Mel had no children of her own.  It was only natural the two should find an affinity for one another.

  But as for Mel and Jefferson?  No one was supposed to even know about it.  But Rumple had seen evidence of it with his own eyes when he’d accidentally observed the two in a passionate embrace the day Helena had been born. 

   Exhausted and elated by the safe birth of his daughter, Rumple had spent hours watching Belle and the baby sleep.  He’d just decided to slip out to his own kitchen to fetch a pot of tea when he’d caught sight of Jefferson and Melanippe silhouetted in the doorway.

   All Rumple had been able to do was stand there with his mouth open in astonishment.  

   Fortunately Grace had caught him and pulled him into another room before the couple had known they’d been seen.

   “Don’t you dare say a word,” the teenager had told him.  “And don’t you dare interrupt them.”

   He might have once been a sliver-tongued imp, but suddenly Rumple hadn’t known what to say. 

   “But he’s…and she’s…” had been about all he’d gotten out.

   “I know,” Grace had sighed rapturously.  “Isn’t it wonderful?”

   Ever since then Rumple had felt rather fond of the young woman.  He was pleased to see her again now.

   The Hatter himself now appeared in the doorway.  Fine threads of gray had grown into his dark hair in recent years, but his clothing was as absurd as ever.  He wore a purple waistcoat over a silver shirt, and his pants were stripped yellow and green.  A green cravat hid the scar on his throat.  The ensemble made the black dragon-hide jacket Rumple wore under his cloak look conservative by comparison.

   “Good morning, Rumplestilskin!  Were we expecting you?”

   Grace shook her head.  “Of course not, Dad.”

   “Oh, well, you’re welcome anyway,” Jefferson said with a smile. 

   He turned to his daughter.  “Gracie, that saucepan you had on the hearth looked like it was going to boil over, so I moved it off the pot hook.  You really can’t leave things unattended on an open fire, dearest.  It’s not like the stove we had at the Storybrooke house…”

   Grace rolled her eyes as only a teenager could do.  “I know that, Dad.  I’m on top of it.”

   “And if it’s hot water you needed you know there’s always some in the reserve kettle…”

   “Dad, I know!” she interrupted.  “Seriously!  You don’t need to keep telling me the same stuff over and over.  Geez!” 

   The young woman turned her back to her father and took Aggie’s reins from Rumple.  “I’m going to take your horse down to the creek and get him some water, ok?” 

   “Of course, Grace, thank you,” Rumple told her.

   After the girl had left Rumple noticed the Hatter frowning a bit.

   “I don’t know what I’m going to do with her, Rumple,” he admitted.  “Lately it seems like if I say anything to her at all I risk getting my head bitten off.  It’s like living with a Jabberwocky.”

   Rumple thought of Bae at fourteen, and of his grandson, Henry, who was Grace’s age now.

   “That comes with the territory with teenagers, if I remember correctly,” he observed.

   “I don’t understand it.  She’ll listen to Mel.  She’ll listen to Belle.  Why won’t she listen to me?  I know it gets lonely here with just the two of us but I’m only trying to help,” the Hatter said wistfully.

   “I’m afraid I don’t know, Jefferson,” Rumple admitted.  “Maybe she’s just restless?”

   “I suppose.”  Jefferson’s expression brightened a bit.  “When Melanippe gets here that will cheer her up.  Thick as thieves, those two.  I don’t suppose you’ve brought word from her?”

   Rumple’s heart sank a bit.  “Actually I was hoping you’d had word from her for me.”

   Jefferson’s eyes widened, then narrowed.  “You mean she hasn’t been with you and Belle?”

   “I’m afraid not.  Belle was hoping she was here with you and set me to check.”

   The Hatter’s long-fingered hands started to anxiously tug at his cravat.  “No, no.  I’ve been expecting her, of course, but with the storm I just assumed…”

   “Yes, so did I.”

   “That isn’t like her.”  Jefferson bit at his bottom lip.  “Something’s wrong.”

   “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

   “I’m sorry, but have we met?”  Jefferson retorted.  “Never tell a former portal jumper not to jump to conclusions—it’s what we do best.”

   Rumple knew that Jefferson, in spite of all his past troubles, still had good instincts.  They were instincts honed by years of Jefferson landing in one pile of trouble after another and then successfully extracting himself, usually for fun and profit.  Until one last jump had gone terribly, terribly wrong…

   “Melanippe is an Amazon.  She’s smart, like Belle, and on top of that she’s as tough as they come,” Rumple said thoughtfully.  In truth over the two years he’d known her Rumple had come to admire those qualities in Belle’s aunt quite a bit.

   “I honestly can’t think of any situation she wouldn’t be able to get herself out of.” 

   “But you and I both know that sometimes there are situations no amount of brains or swordplay or even magic can get you out of,” Jefferson replied.

  “Yes, and I suppose both of us had to learn that the hard way.”  Rumple nodded.

   “Then we need to find her, and soon,” the Hatter said urgently.  “Can your magic track her?”

   “Track whom?”  Grace asked as she reappeared, leading a content-looking Aggie behind her.

  “Mel is in trouble,” Jefferson told his daughter.  “We don’t know where she is.”

   “What?!  Then we have to help her!”  The girl said loudly.

   Rumple held up a hand.  “Please don’t panic.  There may yet be a logical explanation for where she is.”

   Aggie bend down his white head and butted Rumple’s shoulder with his poll.

   “Oh, don’t you start,” he told the horse.

   “So can you track her?”  Jefferson repeated impatiently.

   Rumple thought for a moment.  “Not without great difficulty.  Usually you’d use blood magic for something like this.  That’s how I found Bae in New York.  But she’s not a blood relation of mine.”

   “She’s a blood relation of Belle’s.  Her mother’s youngest sister,” Grace reminded him.

   “But Belle cannot work magic, dearie.  I could try working it for her but it would be a weak spell at best.”  He frowned.  “I don’t suppose you have something of Mel’s, do you?  An object or an item of clothing?  I can enchant that so we can pick up her trail.  That might speed things along.”

   “She tore the lining in her cloak the last time she was here.  Dad’s been mending it for her,” Grace said quickly.  “It’s still on the sewing table.  I’ll get it.”

   “So we’ll look for her the old-fashioned way.  We know she’d most likely have traveled down the Great Western Road from the North, as she always does.”  Jefferson titled the hat on his head at a determined angle.  “We can retrace her steps.”

   “That might take days.”

   No sooner had Rumple said this than the horse butted his shoulder again. 

   “All right, all right.  The old-fashioned way it is.”

   Jefferson blinked.  “Are you talking to me, or to the horse, Rumple?”

   “Both.  You’re equally bossy.”

   Aggie whinnied, seemingly in agreement.

   “Um, Rumplestiltskin, not to tell you your business or anything, but are you sure that’s actually a horse and a not a person under an enchantment?” 

    “I can see how you might think that, Jefferson.  But I have checked, and Aggie here is just a horse.  He just happens to be a very smart horse.”

   “Oh.  That’s good, I suppose,” The Hatter said skeptically.

   “If you say so.”

   “Here.”  Grace emerged from the house, carrying balled-up fabric over one arm and her father’s frock coat over the other.  Rumple recognized the plain black cloak as the one he’d always seen Mel wear.

   He took it in his hands.

   “How does this work?”  She asked.

   “Like this.”  Rumple slid a hand over the fabric until it took on a soft, shimmering glow.  Then he took a hold of it and shook it out, and it vanished.

   “What?  Where did it go?”  Grace demanded.  “That was our only clue!”

   “Relax, dearie,” Rumple told her.  “I have done this before, you know.  Ready, Jefferson?”

   The Hatter finished buttoning up his coat.  “I am.”

   “I want to come, too,” Grace demanded. 

   But Rumple and the Hatter both shook their heads.

   “Grace, listen carefully,” Rumple told her.  “I need you to take Aggie and go to Belle.  Let her know where I am, and that I’ll be back as soon as I can.  She’s already worried sick over Mel; I don’t want her worrying over me, too.  Will you do that for me, please?”

   Grace glanced at her father, who nodded encouragingly.

   “OK.  I’ll stay with Belle and the baby until you guys get back.  But then I want a full update, ok?”

   “OK.”  The Hatter planted a quick kiss on his daughter’s forehead before stepping back again.  “Stay safe, sweetheart.”

   “You, too.  Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

   Rumple chuckled lightly at this.  “Oh, Grace, if only you knew…”

   “Shut it, Rumplestiltskin,” Jefferson said, sounding momentarily like the man Rumple had known all those years ago.

   Rumple gestured, and a plum of gold-colored smoke enveloped the two men.

   That was the one good thing about portal-jumpers, he reflected just before he and Jefferson both vanished. 

   Traveling by magic never made them airsick.

  


End file.
